Your erotic stories

The doors swung open, and I stood before her, flanked by two of her zombie underlings. Even though I took this to be her personal bedroom, the stench of death and decay was unmistakable and unavoidable. The thought of who I might see on the other side of that door bothered me more than the two shambling corpses who had escorted me here.

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She was led into a small room by the raven-haired beauty. Silently she was handed a negligee that could only be described as a scrap of fabric. She assumed she was meant to put this on. The raven-haired woman pointed silently to the pair of high heels that were lined up perfectly next to the velvet-padded bench. The woman met her eyes for a second, smiled, and then left the room.

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Note from author: This is my second submission, and my first lesbian story. All participants are of legal age, and are consenting. This story contains explicit sexual descriptions, if you get offended by this, please do not read.

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Halloween was always fun for me. I liked getting dressed up and seeing what kind of interesting costumes other people had. I can remember some interesting ones, including one particular mummy when I was a kid. I went on a date with her and she had a little trouble with the rain on the way home. That probably shaped my appreciation for costumes a lot. Now I celebrate by assisting as Dracula in a haunted house. It's a lot of work, but it's also a lot of fun. This year it was more fun than usual.

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Alan Bryant emerged from the cabin of his boat to see Joseph, the local lad who he employed part -time, turning his charm on another teenage tourist. Alan smiled to himself, while restraining a twinge of envy; Joseph was thirty-five years his junior, but that wasn't the only reason why the kid was so good at getting into the skimpy bikinis of young female holiday-makers.

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As usual, I have given you very little notice before I can come over. Always a gentleman, you usher me into your house and offer me a drink. We head to the family room to chat awhile. But we both know why I'm here.

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A few years ago friend of mine from college, a girl named Annie, opened a bar, and I helped her out for a couple of months by doing a little cooking and waitressing on weekends. On Friday and Saturday nights I’d leave the our two daughters with my husband and work until about midnight.

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The press report was rather obscure and vague. Deliberately. The Music Hall's public relations director managed to pull in every single favor ever owed her by anyone with any power and got the story buried deep in the section B of the "Kansas City Star."

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The taste of Kourtney's tongue tasted so good to Lauren. She stepped back slightly to look at the beauty standing in front of her. She smiled and then trailed kisses down Kourtney's neck. The smell of her skin was intoxicating. Lauren licked all the way to her nipples.

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It was getting late and the party was showing signs of winding down. One by one our guests said their good-byes and took their leave until, by 2 AM, only myself, my husband David, and our best friend Jesse were left sitting at the small bar tucked in the corner of the dining room. The three of us were contemplating the last shimmering red jello shot that remained sitting on the bar. I picked it up and slurped it out of its small plastic cup, savoring the combined flavors of sweet cherry jello and vodka.

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